Jambo-rat - Rat Man 🇵🇸

Eyes are the window into the soul

I for some reason have had a Vampire kick so I've decided to write something with the ideas I have. I am going FERAL

TW: Blood, religious symbols, gore, torture/hinted torture, dismemberment

It's said that eyes are the way to truly see someone's soul. It's also said how God is this merciful being. The "Creator of all". The Creator of us. It's also said how when He was creating all those living he made a being so truly beautiful that he punished the thought of those beings. He made them disgusting blood sucking creatures of the night, destroying the beauty of their souls by taking their vision. He took the beauty He created and made it into pure unfiltered wrath, fueled only by the very thing that keeps the human race alive. The beings he made, Vampires, were told by their own creator they were disgusting. The same creator who swore to live everything that He's created had told them how they deserved to live in the shadows, secretly feeding. They tried to step out of the pits of hell and show how they're living beings too. But Eyes are the window into the soul. And how can you have a soul when you have no eyes ? How can you be alive when you have no soul ? You've got to be heartless to expect us human beings and Gods perfect creations to welcome in those without a soul.

So they were hunted. It was considered a luxury to have their skin on tarps, a blessing to have their teeth made necklaces and crucifixes, a showing of wealth or showing you're an expert huntsman to have their claws as toothpicks. But the most impressive was to have one of their heads out on display. Even more so if it's paired with their heart. The heart that hasn't beaten our blood since its creation. The heart that the soulless and lifeless creatures are supposed to have. As the time progressed the Vampires became a dying species and slowly were forgotten. When people went pissing it was assumed just random murder. Eventually they were completely forgotten, even when they left their prey bloody and broken, their fingernails missing, teeth torn from their cheeks, heads missing from a case here or there. The bodies of their victims always lay in a religious position.

The most recent case a body of a hyper religious woman was found. She was missing her fingers, her cheeks and gums torn to shreds with her teeth missing, her head was removed and drained of all blood, but the worst part is her eyes had been removed. Her next door neighbors found her on a cross, crucified out in her own front yard. No one knows how she was killed in such a short amount of time and hung up but they knew she was tortured. A note was left nailed to her wrist. 'If God loves all. Then why punish us ?' It was in messy hand writing, almost like a toddler just learning to write. The town was thrown into a panic.

Stories of vampires started resurfacing as possibilities on who killed her. The church stayed out of the case for as long as they could. That was until another body was found. The same thing has happened to him. Except this time there were two notes. The first one was the same as the first, but the second was a date. '12/22' was all that was wrote on the second note. As the days crept closer and closer the church revealed vampires were real. They shared ancient scriptures, their own 'memorabilia', and even went as far as revealing a vampire they had crucified themselves. The town was sent into an even deeper panic, putting everything they could to "protect" themselves from the evil coming. But it didn't work. It never worked. More and more bodies were found. That was until the vampires got too cocky. They broke into the church. One was caught, the supposed 'leader'. Even with her caught they didn't stop. But now she was put on display, locked into a room full of crosses, garlic, whatever they could think of. The only thing that truly worked was the preaching of God, and the lack of food but oh well. She was locked in that room nearly 24/7 before someone from the church had decided she needed to pay. They grabbed her, forcing her squirming body onto a cross. A blood curdling scream was heard throughout the entire town.

She was hoisted up on top Of the church, her skin being exposed to the harsh sun as she screamed and screamed. Whoever cared to listen to her babblings heard her praying and reciting religious text, her body shaking and convulsing. Children threw rocks at her, aiming for her bald head, or more specifically. Her eyes. Or- the lack-there-of. Nightly the pastor climbed up to her cross and stabbed the flabs of skin, "cutting a soul" into her. They had also burned her with metal, engraving crosses into her skin. Yet nothing stopped her babblings and begging. " God does not forgive you! You are evil incarnate. He does not love you. " The Preacher yelled, sliding the knife down her neck. The Vampire screamed again, her back arching off the cross she was nailed too. Blood had trickled down her cheeks from the fresh 'windows' the male had made. " God forgive me. I've done nothing to deserve this punishment. You are my creator. Why must you hate me so. " She screamed, her head turned up to the sky, only to be met with another knife carving into her skin. God was not there to help her. He had abandoned her species when he created them. So now she is left to the mercy of the preacher who was currently carving crosses and religious titles into her skin. It wasn't long before the vampire had died. Her body wasn't even removed, it stayed above the church, decomposing for all the public to see.

Vampires are a creation from God. But they were abandoned for the 'sin' they were. A truly beautiful creature left out for all to see. The creature never loved by anything. Something that deserves love but Nevers gotten it.

Pov me when Religious symbolism with Vampires: AHSKSISGAGSKEUSVW

I love how i can make them so TRAUMATIZED, IT'S SO JUICY.

Anywayssssss thank you for reading :D

Some of my own personal story ((:

This is a little passion project that I'm working on. I really hope that you enjoy the progress so far. I'll probably post it when I'm done but it'll be a LOT of words and reading. But it should be worth it !!!

CW: drug abuse, alcohol abuse, hallucinations, gore-(ish), and swearing

Everything was ringing in John’s ears, the buzzing growing more and more intense. He faintly heard his name being called, it slowly growing as his eyesight slowly focused on his hands and the salad in front of him.

“John? John, are you okay?” The voice snapped him out of his daze.

“Huh?" He whispered, looking up and staring at her.

"Are you okay John? You kind of blacked out on me there." Alyssa playfully teased, staring at him with a nervous expression.

"Oh yeah, I'm…I'm okay." He told her, his hand holding the side of his head.

"Okay…if you say so." She shrugged before continuing her story.

The ringing in his ears grew to a pitch as he let out a small groan. He squeezed his eyes before snapping them open, now standing in the doorway of his house as the ringing in his ears started to die down.

"How'd I get here…?" He whispered, closing the front door behind him as he dropped his bag on the couch next to him. He stumbled to the counter, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the note on his counter. John shook his head and walked past to grab a cup. He turned and pulled a bottle of whiskey off his fridge. He accidentally slammed the glass on the counter, sucking in a breath at the loud slam.

"Fuck." He hissed, rubbing his temples as he closed his eyes.

John let out a breath and slightly opened them again, popping the cap off of the bottle before pouring the golden liquid into the glass cup. He set the heavy amber bottle back on down and sealed it, slightly pushing the glass back from the edge. He walked back to the note, picking it up with one hand while the other brought the glass cup to his lips. He threw his head back, swallowing the liquid in one go before coughing, his head falling back forwards.

John sighed and finally picked up the crumpled note, smoothing it out so he could read it more clearly. The text was neat and almost clean, a little crooked here and there but otherwise it looked almost perfect.

"Dear John,

I know we haven't talked in a while. Or at all actually. But I thought it would be nice to try and reconnect! I heard you got a new job, that's amazing to hear! I know you're probably confused on who I am and I apologize, but hopefully we'll see each other again!

Love, J."

John let out a small scoff, crumpling the paper again. He went to pour another glass but stopped when he saw a shadow fly past in the corner of his eye. He turned to scan his office, the room almost pitch black. "Hello?" He called out, setting his cup down and walking over to the office. He stepped past the barrier before stumbling back at the feeling of hands brush his chest. "Shit!" He yelped, falling back and staring up at the abyss. He let out heavy breaths as he quickly stood up, grabbing his phone from the counter and stumbling back to his bathroom.

Once in his bathroom John started the water in the sink. He put his hands under the running water, a small hiss slipping from him at the cool feeling hitting his palms and running down his fingers. He took a deep breath and leaned forward, splashing his face with the water. He raised his head again, his vision blurry from the water on his lashes. He went to grab the towel on the counter so he could dry his face but then he paused, noticing something in the corner of his eyes, reflected from the mirror. He shook his head, ignoring it as he grabbed one of the various bright orange bottles on his bathroom counter. He looked down at the label. It was Fluoxetine prescribed to a "Johnathan Oscar". He went to open the top, struggling more than he'd like to admit. When he finally got it open it slipped out of his hand, falling into the sink. "No!" He squeaked, dropping the bottle into the sink.

He let out a breath, his gaze shooting up and landing on the mirror. His gaze immediately trailed over to the bathroom closet door behind him. It was cracked open with black, slender fingers gripping the doorframe. His gaze trailed up and he made 'eye contact' with the being, beady red eyes. A small breath left him as he slowly turned his head to look back at the closet. It was closed, no sign of anything or anyone. He let out a small breath and looked back at the mirror, seeing it opened a bit more. "The fuck…?" He muttered, looking back at the door with a furrowed brow. He shook his head and turned back to the sink, trying to pull as many pills out of the sink as he could. He grabbed three pills from his prescription, setting the bottle back on the counter and turning to walk back to the kitchen.

When he got back to the counter he opened the bottle of Whiskey again, pouring it back into the shot glass. He poured more of the amber liquid into the glass. John set the glass bottle down again, making sure he didn't make it slam. He sealed the case before pushing it back and away from the counter. He grabbed the pills, putting them in his mouth and swallowing them before using the alcohol as a chaser, another cough slipping from him. He walked over to the couch and went to grab the remote for the device. When he flicked the device on it didn't turn on. "What is wrong with you?" He muttered, frowning at the screen. He sighed and flipped the remote over, opening the batter compartment. Instead of the normal double A batteries you'd see there was a paper folded up. He pulled it out and unfolded it, his eyes scanning over the writing yet again. This time it was a little more jumbled but it still looked neat.

"Dear John,

Do you remember that night we walked together by the freeway? The night when we talked for hours and hours together? It's one of my favorite memories. The way you held my hand as our laughter mixed together, our pains defend by the joy of that night. I can't still remember the way you gently said my name and the way you'd squeeze my hand when you wanted to make a silent agreement. I wish we could still do that. But people change. I know you definitely have. But that's okay, maybe I can find a way to change with you. Anyways, I hope this finds you well.

Love, J."

John grumbled softly, balling up the note and throwing it onto the couch as he stood up. "Who the fuck is J? And where are his letters coming from?" He snarled, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm down. John trudged over to the cabinet nearby, opening it and watching for some sort of food. As he searched for something to eat there was a large slam nearby causing him to jump. "Shit." He gasped, his hand gripping his chest as his heart pounded in his chest, the beating making his ears ring again. He squeezed his eyes and gripped his shirt, his nails pushing against his palm through the thin fabric. When his eyes opened again his gaze landed to the mid-stomach of a figure. His gaze slowly trailed up, going higher and higher before stopping at where the door frame stopped, about mid-neck.

The figure was thin. It was so thin that he could see the ribs protruding from its chest. He went back to the stomach and saw how the skin dipped back, just barely enough space to fit the internal organs it would need. John's gaze flicked to its arms. They were un-naturally long; they reached to about the middle of its shins, which was even more surprising because its legs were also long, maybe a little longer than its arms. The skin. It looked like the skin was rotten, hugging the bones that made the limbs. At first glance it would be easily mistaken for a skeleton. If not for the stench of rotting flesh and the visible decay of its skin.

There were a few pauses of deafening silence, the ringing in John's ears only growing in pitch before the zombie-like creature let out a blood curdling scream. One that almost caused John to stumble and fall to the ground. The only reason why he didn't was because the creature came charging at him, but stopped after a few steps and collapsed, its head being torn from its body. When John saw the head he let out a scream of pure terror. He stared down at the sunken, bright red eyes staring up at him. Its mouth was hung slack, one side barely hanging on. If it weren't for the little bit of cheek tissue that desperately clung to the peeling muscle. John slapped a hand over his mouth, his legs giving out under him, causing the male to trip over his own feet and land back on his tailbone.

Thank you for reading ! This has truly become a passion project and I want to share it with everyone here. If you have any suggestions I'll take them to hopefully improve my writing ((:

IM ACTIVELY SOBBING. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

Eepy...... Alfie.....

How would you guys feel about me writing for BG3 ? I it's been my main hyperfixation for months now and it's the only thing occupying my mind. Yes ? No ? Maybe so ?

mentally i’m a slut physically i’m scared of intimacy